


Hush

by saltycrow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 06:52:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18360875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltycrow/pseuds/saltycrow
Summary: This was how he always asked all the most important questions. Sitting by the open window, barely dressed."Not many things are unfathomable to me, but a life without you is. So, I promise to you, Hermione Jean Granger, that I will not become the man you met when you were fourteen, if you promise to me, that you will always stay with me. "





	Hush

This was how he always asked all the most important questions. Sitting by the open window, barely dressed. His hair falling over his eyes, a cigarette between his fingers, and then between his lips. The air in the room was always crisp and cold, for this was England, and frankly, it was never all that warm. The sheets always smelled at the same time both fresh with detergent and fabric softener, but also of him, leather and smoke. This was how it always was. Her, with her nose in a book, wrapped up in a sheet. But still always angled to him, unconsciously making sure she could see him if she just lifted her gaze ever so slightly. Yes, this was how he always asked all the questions that changed their lives. 

***

October 19, 1978

Hermione felt a shiver down her spine. The cool air making its way in from the open window was making her feel chilly, but she did not acknowledge it. Her head buried in the book, trying to find a better alternative for Polyjuice potion was not a job she took lightly. The Order needed options and they were in the middle of a war. And really, she did not mind the chill at all, for it meant that Sirius was being courteous enough to open the large window in his room to let the smoke out. 

A smile tugged on her lips and she resisted looking up. Every time her thoughts wandered to the man sitting on the windowsill a warm feeling filled her chest. Who would have seen it? That four and a half months after her arrival in this time she would not only be having warm feelings towards her best friend’s godfather but feeling this way while being half dressed and wrapped in his sheets after a magnificent roll in the hey, to put it nicely. Not her, that was sure. And yet, here she was, trying not to look at him and keep focusing on the work she could do for the order. 

“I think we should date,” a low voice by the window declared. As always, like everything he said, it was not a question, but a declaration. For a few passing moments she pondered whether to look at him or not, but she could not resist. 

The man by the window had his signature one sided smirk on his lips. His hair was doing its best to try and hide his brilliant grey eyes. Of course, he was naked despite his black underwear, his only accessory being the half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. 

Hermione could not help but smirk back widely. 

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” His smile widened before taking a drag of his cigarette. 

“Yeah,” was the simple confirmation she got. 

“Sirius Black extraordinaire, settling down? Do my ears deceive me?” she asked with a high voice, that was meant to be mocking, but ended up sounding a bit too sincere. He leaned forward, his eyes steely. 

“There is no one like you, Nee. No one.” His face was motionless and the intensity in his eyes made her shiver. 

“Being with you makes me feel like my soul is where it needs to be. I’m home, finally,” he almost whispered. 

Her brown eyes met his grey ones and it was all she needed to be reassured. His past did not really bother her, it never did. She trusted him like she had never trusted anyone else, not her parents, not Harry, or Ron. Not even herself. His loyalty was so unwavering that it scared her sometimes. 

She rose up from his mattress and walked to him, not minding the fact that her state of undress was identical to his. She reached for the cigarette and threw it out of the window. She then traced her hand from his brow to his jaw. 

“I could never leave your soul wanting,” she breathed and placed her lips on his with such ferocity, with such certainty. Yet it scared her. 

This was a promise. She knew it. And with a man like Sirius Black, there were no promises you could ever break. But deep down she knew two things; there really were none like Sirius and that she would never break her promise. For her soul would also be left wanting, were it not with him. 

***

March 3, 1979

The chill of the brisk March air was like a cool blanket over his bare skin, but he welcomed it. It made him feel more alive. Breathing in the smoke of his cigarette also made him feel more alive. Although his dutiful girlfriend kept reminding him it was taking him closer to his death. But perhaps that was why it made him feel more alive. He was, after all, a man of extremes. Or that was what she always told him. And just like every time he thought of her, a smile appeared on his lips. He turned his eyes from the quiet street below, now stained with the rain drops starting to fall and looked at her. 

The woman before him was not looking at him. Alas, she rarely seemed to be. But perhaps that was one of the things he loved about her. Her face buried in a book was how he had met her, and that cherished memory always came back to him when she was reading and paying him no mind. 

Her skin was on goose flesh from the cold. The smooth skin, darker against his, was a living reminder that just a few minutes ago her body had been wrapped with his. His eyes searched for hers, but not only were they glued to the book, the unruly brown curls were covering her face. 

He got a sense of deep longing, like he did every time when she was not in his arms. No matter that he could just reach for her, and her skin would be back against his. He longed for her, day and night. When he was working, in his office, or on the field. When he was with his friends. When he was standing in the shower alone. Everything in him yearned for her. For her voice, for her sharp tongue always ready for an argument. And Merlin, did they argue. They argued so loudly and so often, that anyone who did not know them, would have though they hated each other. But in fact, it was the opposite. He yearned for her wit, her adorable Muggle-moments, the freckles on her nose... everything about Hermione Granger lit him on fire. 

Sirius looked at her as she sighed and shut her book, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. She groaned.  
“I need to get going, it’s getting late,” she murmured. And without thinking, without thinking about anything else, except not wanting her to go, he cleared his throat. 

“Move in with me.” Those rash words stopped her in her place. From her seated position on the bed, her warm brown eyes met his. 

“What, are you going to throw Remus out?” she asked with a raised brow. He brought the cigarette back to his lips and shrugged. 

“Moony will get it, and you know it. Don’t try to put this on him.” She made a sound of annoyance and narrowed her eyes. 

“We will drive each other mad,” she protested. He shrugged. He did not miss the verb tense she uses. Oh yes, they will drive each other mad, no question about it. 

“Yeah, and we both enjoy a bit of madness every now and then, babe.” A smile sneaked slowly on her face. 

“Arguments from dawn till dusk, is that what gets you going, Mr. Black?” There was a wicked flash in her eyes he could not ignore. He stubbed out his cigarette, prepared. 

“You know it does. See?” Her eyes traveled south, and he swore he could see her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

“Well then, I guess madness and chaos is what we choose,” she said with a nod. She never agreed to anything outright, but it was a yes. He knew her and she was making a promise to him. One that she would never break. 

“A life of madness and chaos with you is everything I want from life.” He was about to move to the bed and show her just how pleased he was with her promise, but a male voice coming from outside his, their, room interrupts him. “Oh, for fuck’s sake Sirius! Put a god damn silencing charm on. I can’t deal with this lovey-dovey bullshit right now! Oh, and thanks for kicking me out, by the way,” Remus’ voice echoed from the living room before his footsteps carried him to his room and he slammed the door shut. 

Hermione’s mouth was ajar with shock, and an embarrassed blush creeped on her lips. 

“I’m so sorry, Remus!” She shouted, but her attention only lingered on his friend for a second, before he claimed her lips. 

“See, Remus is fine. How about a little of that madness, Nee?”

“With you, always,” she agreed and grabbed his hair. The sweetness of her lips, it was intoxicating. 

***

December 10, 1980

“What happened?” he asked from the windowsill. A chill went down her spine and this time it was not because of the near freezing December air. His voice was the dead giveaway. The cheer always present in it was gone. No trace of the mischief anywhere in his demeanor. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt like it had closed up. She had known this would be coming. Hell, she had even prepared for it. Wrote it down on a roll of parchment that seemed to be never ending, memorized it and then tossed it in the fire. Half hoping burning all of it would erase the past. Or the future. 

“Sirius...” she started, but all those rehearsed lines had left her. As if she had burned them with the parchment. Instead of reassuring words, a tear rolled down her cheek. She drew in a ragged breath and blinked, trying to will the tears away from her eyes. 

“Hermione, what happened to us? What happened then? I think - I think I need to know,” he said with such sincerity, that it sounded like he was pleading with her. His smiles and stoicism were both gone. The man before her was raw, stripped down of all masks, of all charades. 

“Sirius, it-it will never happen. Just being here with you, now- we have already changed all of it.” The words rushed out of her, trying to save herself, and him, from this. 

“I know that, I know it. But it has been weighing on me. And I know it has been weighing on you. When you look at the calendar you either look relieved or you are full of dread. Hermione, it is time. Tell me of your past, of the future we were doomed to have without you.” 

Through a ragged breath a sob escaped her lips. “Sirius...” came out the first pleading word. “You all died,” she whispered. She was no longer in control of her own body. The sobs ripped through it, her body barely breathing, half crying, half screaming. His face betrayed nothing, just urged her on.

“Lily and James... they both died.”

“And Harry?” he asked, and a small smile appeared on her lips. “Harry lived, Sirius. But Harry is a story for another day. It is a long one.” 

“Remus, then?” Sirius’ face was unreadable. She shook her head. “He died later, at the end of the second war.” Sirius seemed to be dying to ask about the war, but her friends were more important now. 

“And Peter?” Here they were. At the root of the problem. The Peter she knew now made her hesitate. What if she had just made all if it up in a fever dream? But no, she knew what she knew. 

“Sirius, you have to understand, that I firmly think we have changed all of this already.” 

“Just spit it out, Hermione,” he said coldly. 

“Peter betrayed you. He turned and sold Lily and James to Voldemort. He died later, in his service.” And just like that all the emotions he has been hiding though this were visible on every inch of his skin. 

“How could he?! I would rather die than betray my friends,” he shouted, anger and terror filling his voice. 

“Sirius... I’m so sorry. None of this will happen. None of it. None of it can happen. And if I don’t believe that, I will break down. I truly will. I could not – I will not go through it. I will not let you go through it again.” She broke down in a sob and she could feel Sirius watching her, wanting to come to her, but his own emotions were too tangled up now to comfort her. 

“I don’t care what becomes of me, Hermione. I truly don’t. But James, Remus, Lily and Peter. This cannot happen.” 

“I came here to change all that, but right now I don’t give a damn about anyone else. I cannot let you be the broken man I met when I was fourteen. I cannot bare to see the shell of a man, not now that I have seen you like this. Not now that I love you like this.” She brought her hands to cover her face and sobbed into them. The ugly wails filling the room. The sobs did not cease even when he lightly touched her wrist, bringing her hands down from her face. 

“What happened?” 

“Twelve years, in Azkaban. That’s what happened, Sirius. Peter set you up for the murder of Lily and James. You went after him and he faked his own death. You were sent there without trial.” 

For a moment Hermione saw the gaunt thin man in the features of this young and vibrant Sirius. Her Sirius. That could never be. Never. She had sworn it over and over. 

“Did I die there?” he asked, almost emotionless. She shook her head. “You escaped, as Padfoot. You found Harry and you lived on the run for a few years... before you died.” The look in his eyes urged her to continue and she did. 

“It was Bellatrix that did it. You died fighting, to save Harry, to save us all.” 

With a heavy sigh Sirius sat on the bed next to her. When he turned to her, he looked older, more solemn. She took his hand and squeezed it as hard as she could. 

“I will never allow it to be. I swear, you will not lose your friends before you turn twenty-two and you will never set foot in Azkaban and you won’t die for this war. I refuse to see you become the man he was. I refuse to see that light inside you dim, not even a little bit. It will kill me if I ever have to see you become the man from my memories. I cared for that Sirius, and I felt for him. His life had been so full of shit. That will not be you.” He placed his other hand on top of hers. 

“You already changed everything, Hermione. I don’t have to know the past, or the fucking future to know it. You being here with me will make me endure any fate that is to come. The man you met had not had you. I could never become him, not after all this. Not after having felt all these things I have felt with you. It is more than a man can hope for one life time.” 

“Sirius Black, don’t you dare talk about enduring fates. All this work I do, all these books I read. It is all for you. At first it was solely because we needed to stop Voldemort, changing all that happened. But now, I cannot lie and say I want to save the world. I want to save you. And I want to save myself. I want to save us both from ever meeting the shadow of a man I met on the Whomping Willow at the end of my third year. That’s my mission now, to see you grow old, to not see you weighed down by nightmares, to see you happy and surrounded by all your friends. And even if I would not get to be by your side, it would still all be worth it. You mean more to me, Sirius, than anything else in this god damn universe.” 

“I would never be happy, I would never grow old, would you not be there. Not many things are unfathomable to me, but a life without you is. So, I promise to you, Hermione Jean Granger, that I will not become the man you met when you were fourteen, if you promise to me, that you will always stay with me. Through time and space.”

“I promise to you, Sirius Orion Black. Through time and space, always.” They sealed the promise with a kiss. 

***

June 14, 1981

The earthy smell of warm summer rain filled the bedroom. Everything outside was so fresh and green. Summer had always been his favorite season. Everything was so alive. The man who enjoyed the occasional brush with death also loved nothing better than the vibrancy of life. It held so many possibilities. And one of those possibilities was lying on her stomach, reading a book while wearing his leather jacket and not much else. A wicked grin flashed on his face as he thought back a few hours. Her in that leather jacket, smelling like him, like his.

“Hermione?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Marry me.” 

A smile spread very slowly on her face, but her eyes were still firmly staring at the book in front of her.  
“Ever the romantic,” she said and met his steel grey eyes. He shrugged and hopped down from his place at the windowsill. 

“You’d hate it if I ever proposed in a grand gesture. You’d scoff at me and say I never really knew you after all.” She rolled her eyes, but there was no malice there. Rather, she disliked him being right. He sat down next to her and ran his fingers through her wild curls, finally placing the softest kiss on her lips. 

“I want nothing more than to be yours from now to eternity.” The warm brown eyes were glued to his, a flush coloring her cheeks. She looked like a goddess. 

“When should the wedding be?” She said softly, blinking slowly. A grin as wide as he could manage appeared on his lips. 

“Is that a yes?” Laughter filled his voice. 

“I’ve always liked August, how about you?” 

“You sneaky woman, you can never give me a straight answer, can you?” The clear laughter that burst out of her was so full of joy. If Amortentia had a sound, this would be what he heard. 

“Of course not. How could I ever miss a chance to annoy my future husband?” 

“Marry me then, on August 8th, at the gardens of the Potter Manor.”

“I’ll be there. I’ll be the one in white.” 

“You’d better.”

***

November 9, 1982

The autumn was as gray as her husband’s eyes and as grey as the smoke he breathed out of his lungs. Yet the grayness did not bother her. The sun was still there behind the clouds, and she knew it. For the first time in a long time she could breathe freely. 

“We made it, didn’t we?” Sirius asked holding the parchment with Dumbledore’s handwriting. 

“Yes, I think we did, babe.” He put out the cigarette and let the letter drop to his feet. He was on his feet and for the first time in years, the weight he had carried on his shoulders for so long had been lifted. 

“We’re all alive. And it’s all because of you.” 

“We all did our part. No one could do this alone.” Sirius shook his head. “None of us would be where we are if you did not travel back in time. You made that choice. And now, the world is free of him, of his tyranny. And we’re still here.” 

A hush fell into the room. Not even the sound of pedestrians made it up to their room. Hermione could not answer. She had no words, not now. Now all she wanted was to carry on with her life. Be with this man beside her. Never let him go. Sirius lay himself down next to her. Staring at the ceiling where as she stared at him. 

“Would you ever go back? To your time? Meet your friends like you remember them, not as toddlers.” His voice trembled with vulnerability. 

“Oh Sirius. Your soul is at home with mine. And I could never leave you wanting, remember?” 

What this newfound peace would bring them, they did not know. But she was his as he was hers. They had carved marks in each other’s hearts, and Hermione was sure it would stretch beyond space and time. The quiet of this room, the smell of smoke and leather, the warmness of his body around hers, her soul could never forget. Not even if she lived a thousand lifetimes after this one. 

“The perpetual longing, I have for you will never fade, Hermione. I hate to think that I had to live without you once, in some other lifetime.” 

“We found each other. That is all that matters.” Sirius nodded and pulled her to him. His lips devouring her, his hands possessing her body. The heath of his passion was beyond anything else she had ever imagined for herself. And yet, here they were: a man who had lived two different lives and a woman who had traveled through time to make it happen. Both of them were finally home.


End file.
